Escape Strategy
by Aimsaru
Summary: A bond had formed between them through a mutual understanding of the need for escape from duty. A sizzling spark of attraction had clinched the way their interactions would be handled. Iroh II/Korra written after his initial appearance in 1.10, pre-finale.


She awoke quickly, embarrassment settling into her skin. The intensity of her flush seemed to burn her more deeply than the twinge between her thighs. _Why did I stay?_ She sat up in a hurried rush of cotton, pulling the sheets up to cover her breasts as she searched the floor for her clothing.

"Where are you going?" his voice came lazily from the other side of the bed, still thick with sleep and languid with the exhaustion of their earlier activities.

"I-I need to go, it's probably morning," she explained, trying not to tense when he sat up and slid closer to her. Trying, unsuccessfully, to fight down the tingle of excitement that sprouted in her belly and tangled around her spine as he brushed a kiss along the nape of her neck, just behind her ear.

His tongue was warm and wet along her skin. His lips soft and plush; a delicious contrast to the early morning stubble that dusted his jaw, scraping against her skin and sending pinpricks of sensation straight to her groin.

"They'll be wondering wh…"

"They know where you are. We've been burning the midnight oil,_ Korra_. The war isn't over yet and we still have to map out the strategy," he softened his words with a sweet kiss to her temple that caused her tension to float away.

He was right, Amon was gone but the city was still in turmoil. She couldn't count the hours that she had spent here, in the General's quarters, her head throbbing as they thought of men and women; benders and non-benders, as _losses_, sacrifices to a greater good. It rankled that she couldn't save them all. It was a feeling that the battle wearied Fire Nation Prince understood.

A bond had formed between them through a mutual understanding of the need for escape from duty. A sizzling spark of attraction had clinched the way their interactions would be handled.

"Come back to bed. Just a bit longer," he beckoned, and she gave in, melting into his arms and forgetting the world for just a little while more.

"What about mapping out our strategy?" she asked, a bit of her self-confident spunk returning to her as she settled back into the pillows.

"Hmm," the General mumbled, as if deep in thought, one black eyebrow cocked in consideration.

"Right now I think that a direct assault, _here,"_ He whispered gruffly, his hand cupping her sex, "Would be the best course of action."

He slithered down her body, all grace. Korra was enraptured by the play of muscles at his back and shoulders as he moved, resting his head between her thighs and pulling her legs open before him.

The heat of his breath on her flesh was intoxicating. He wasn't even touching her there yet, but she was already trembling with need. Strong hands held her hips down and Korra knew that he could feel her trying to buck up towards his mouth. He took pity on her, flicking his tongue between her folds a few times, soft as silk, before adding more pressure, the bridge of his regal nose bumping against her clit. She moaned throatily, her lungs tight and painful in her chest until she was panting. Gasping for breath and shaking all over. He was dizzying. Her body rocketed off the bed suddenly, a cry of pleasure ripping past her lips as he thrust his tongue inside of her. His thumb had found her, joining in the fray and sliding over her skin. She was rocking her hips against him, her body swaying and undulating like the waves outside the ship. Something was building, the same electric ball of pressure that he had inspired in her last night. Filling her body and stretching out into her limbs, tickling and tingling, and —_Oh!_

She was still catching her breath when he spoke again.

"…And then we should have a line of troops traveling north," he crawled over her, his skin brushing against hers as he moved, catlike and slow. He pressed a kiss to the underside of one breast before licking a trail of pure fire up to her nipple and sucking it into that perfect mouth. His honeyed eyes glimmered mischievously as he nipped just the tip with sharp white teeth, and Korra shivered against the mattress, fingers tightening around handfuls of crisp white sheets.

He rose over her again like a cresting wave, shifting his weight between her thighs and meeting her mouth in a teasing kiss. He slanted his tongue into her mouth and she could taste the nectar of her skin on his taste buds before he pulled away, leaving her to crane her neck, chasing his lips.

She was breathless, blood rushing in her ears. All she could focus on was the weight of his body, the hardness pressing at her core, and the words that he was speaking.

"Finally, infiltration," he punctuated his words with a percussive collision of hip and thigh, penetrating the last of her defenses and sliding into her with a groan.

He filled her until she could feel every ridge of him pressing into her and then he didn't stop. Even sex was like a smooth, well trained motion for the Prince and she was soon clawing at his shoulders, pulling him down to her and demanding more.

Iroh was a patient man; he could make this last, draw out this torturous battle. Every move calculated towards her eventual surrender. But she was the Avatar, a fortress of strength, and not to be taken lightly.

She turned the tables on him, wrapping her legs around his hips and spinning their bodies until she was on top.

"You've lost ground," she said cheekily, her breathing labored as she rocked back onto him.

"Sometimes, a small defeat can lead to an even greater victory," his eyes glinted and then he jackknifed his body into an upright position, gripping her waist with muscled forearms and driving himself deeper into her body.

His mouth was at her throat, his stubble scratching at the sensitive skin there, and she was struck by how beautiful he was in this moment. Hair mussed— all rough edges and five o'clock shadow. It was a very different look to the way he usually presented himself and she knew that in a few short hours he would return to appearing clean shaven with slicked back hair. She rolled her hips against him, dipping her head to trail her teeth along his jawline.

His hips were thrusting into her more quickly, shallow pumps that drove her clit against his abdomen until she was crying out once more, sobbing for relief.

She could feel his eyes on her skin, roving over her face with fearsome intensity. It was as if he was urging her to give in, to yield to her orgasm, wanting to see her face as she came undone in his arms.

Her eyes were slitted, a crescent of bright blue aqua glowing under thick eyelashes and mocha skin. Her bottom jaw was slack and her lips puckered, pink, and full. He drank her in, holding onto that expression until it was torn from his gaze as her head fell back, neck arched as she screamed to the ceiling. She had him in a vice grip, legs wound around him like a cobra as she stilled, muscles tense for long moments before she sagged against him.

He rolled her over gently, knowing that her legs had turned to Jell-O and that she wouldn't be able to hold up her own weight any longer. He allowed himself to take his pleasure, thrusting into her roughly, reveling in how wet she was and the little quakes that were still working themselves around him from the inside.

It was over in moments as he came with blinding force. Black flashes flickering at the corners of his eyes as he emptied himself into her, hot and fast.

The sheets were still warm when the weight of her duties came rushing back to her. Iroh, seeming to notice her restlessness, pressed a kiss to her shoulder and rolled out of bed. He stretched, giving her the space to dress and think. It was precious, to just be in the room together and have nothing asked of them.

They had become good at silent communication in these few short weeks, and as she slipped from his chamber, fully costumed in the Water Tribe gear and three ponytails that the press had come to associate with _the Avatar _they shared a look.

It was a look that said so much more than, _"Thank you"_ or _"Until later._" It transcended silly declarations and awkward after sex exchanges. It was a look that meant _nothing_ and_everything_.

It simply seemed to say, _"This time, that we had here, was only ours."_


End file.
